


Budapest

by Mystique1250



Series: Marvel One-Shots [7]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Clint Barton, Budapest, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton Made a Different Call, Clintasha - Freeform, F/M, Fights, Hotel Sex, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, POV Clint Barton, Past Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Penis In Vagina Sex, Protective Clint Barton, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Vaginal Sex, What Happened in Budapest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 13:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15931505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystique1250/pseuds/Mystique1250
Summary: Clint Barton has been ordered to fly to Budapest to kill "KGB" agent Natalia Alianovna Romanova, but what happens when they meet for the first time on the snow-covered streets of Budapest? And how will the decisions he makes, affect their fates.





	1. Blood spatter in the snow

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language.

The icy night air blows through the streets of Budapest and makes the young agents shiver. He's been sitting on the roof of some apartment in town for hours, waiting to kill his target, then finally getting a hot coffee from the corner booth before flying back to New York. He breathes on his hands and rubs them together quickly to at least warm up slightly. With his eyes he follows the people on the street like an eagle pursuing his prey, and something happens that he hadn't even thought of anymore.

A young woman was sitting on the bench across the street right now. In gloved hands she holds a cup with a liquid in it, which he cannot recognize from his place. She has partially hidden her long red curls under a simple woollen cap, which she has pulled over her ears. She is wrapped in a coat worthy of the icy season, under which she wears jeans with a top he cannot recognize, as she has buttoned her jacket up. To his surprise, at first glance she doesn't seem at all like an enemy spy who kills anyone who betrays her agency, but more like a normal Russian woman who has chosen a holiday in Hungary. However, he lets his gaze wander further over her and sees the weapon that seems to be stuck in her boot. 

Although the knowledge that she is his opponent usually prevents him from lowering his weapons, it is completely different with her. She doesn't seem cold and brutal at all, but simply like a woman who has just come home from work and is now ringing in her end of work with a leisurely winter walk.  
However, as she rises after a short time and strolls to the next trash can to throw away her empty cup, he sneaks further over the roof to keep an eye on her. Somehow, she impresses him. In the white, cold snow she looks like a dancer, dancing around with elegant movements and thawing the snow with the beautiful picture she offers.

She turns around a corner and walks straight into a dark, narrow alley. This is his chance! He takes one of his attachments for the arrow, which will ensure that he does not break both legs, fixes it on the roof and then jumps down from the roof right onto it. The attachment digs itself firmly into the roof tiles and thus holds the rope, with which it now gently ropes down onto the road. 

The spy falls to the ground as he pounces on her. He steps one foot firmly into the pit of the stomach before letting go of the rope. She gasps in horror and prunes for a few seconds as her hands move to the spot where he met her.  
But then she seems to have calmed down again and raises her head. Her eyes seem to shine with rage and before he knows it, a knife hisses past him. The hard metal shines as the light falls on him and Clint realizes that he made a mistake. He should have killed that dangerous woman the minute she showed up on the street.

Instinctively he pulls out his bow and clamps an arrow as if it were child's play. He points the gun at her before she can pull another knife and releases the string. The arrow roars towards her with full force, but shortly before her heart she simply catches him relaxed and throws him back to him.  
His heart's beating hard against his chest. She must have really enjoyed a first-class workout. The cold air in his lungs makes his mind clear again and causes him to let several bullets follow. Surprised by his sudden strength, she retreats and has to take punches and kicks from his side over and over again. 

For some reason he doesn't try to hit her, but shoots again and again to his left and right. With an arrow, which he shoots at her thigh, he causes her to fall.

He places his right foot on her right upper arm so that she is not standing to move it away, and presses a knee on her left forearm. The way she moves under him makes him freeze for a moment. Even so defenseless, she still looks graceful. Like a panther. Beautiful and deadly at once.  
Her eyes seem hard and cold, but all this is just a mask. There's a lot more behind it. A mixture of fear and acceptance of her death, which he will bring about in a few seconds, but there is something that prevents him from shooting an arrow right through her heart. Something that warms him from the inside out and at the same time gives him goose bumps. 

When he raises his voice to say something, it sounds soft and scratchy: "I don't want to kill you no matter what you've done. " He would love to bite his ass for these words, but at this moment he gives free rein to his thoughts. While he sounds insecure and broken, her voice is strong and fearless: "Why not? An agent should always carry out his orders. " "I know that," he hisses, trying to cover up the pain her words cause in his soul. He had never met a man so eager to face death. "Then why don't you act?" she asks intrepidly and almost throws him off course.

He briefly considers whether his actions are really correct, but then he turns off his head: "I would like to make you a counteroffer. He is almost frightened when he sees the newly awakened glow in her beautiful, green eyes: "That's what I call luxury. He's starting to wonder how she can take this situation with so much humor? Did she know he wasn't gonna kill her when he roped down? 

"Come with me to S. H. I. E. L. D. and restart", he submits his suggestion to her quickly and quietly: "Make up for what went wrong in your life. I'm sure you're not as bad as they say you are. No one is born evil. " He watches as she opens her mouth to say something, probably quite mocking, but then closes it again and simply nods silently. "Is that a'yes'?', he checks her answer again to make sure she won't stab him as soon as he drops pressure from her arms. Although he can't be sure of a'yes' from her side either. After all, she is not only a murderer, but also a woman, and over time he has learned that combinations of both should not necessarily be trusted naïvely, but what else can he do? "Yes," she replies, but her voice has lost all its expressiveness.

At this very moment the snow begins to fall again and get caught in her red hair, as if it were a sign that the splashes of her blood in the snow make almost unrecognisable. A sign of hope.


	2. Natasha Romanov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint brings the injured Natalia to the hotel. She seals her decision to start a new life and begins immediately.

She has her right arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders so as not to put too much strain on her injured leg as he tries as best he can to take her to the hotel where he has moved into a musty room. 

In order to draw as little attention as possible to the wound he had caused, he had previously broken off the tip and then also cut off the long end, which had not penetrated her flesh. Now it seemed more as if she had only a short, black stick in her leg, which doesn't hurt less, but it almost didn't cause a sensation. Unless you follow the treacherous trail of drops of blood in the white snow through which we have to stomp. Why did they have to come to Europe at this time of the year? Some people may find this white mass romantic, but in this situation he just finds it exhausting.  
"How long can you keep it up," he asks her sensitively and tries to speak as quietly as possible. After she agreed to come to the hotel with him and later also to New York, he had really felt terrible because he had intentionally hurt her.

The prejudices he initially had against her, thanks to Fury's, not really true assessments of her character, are haunting and he now sees who she really is. For many she may be a murderer and an emotionless robot, but for him she is much more. He sees in her a woman who has simply had the wrong start in life. At least that's what he thinks. In order to be able to assess them more accurately, he must first get to know them better and learn more about them. 

"Don't worry about me. It's not that bad", she tries to calm him down, but he doesn't believe her at all: "I can deal with pain. I've trained that long enough. " He has to swallow with her words. How horrible must her life so far have been?

"But I'm worried," he replies slightly bent: "We'll be right there. Then we take care of it." He nods in the direction of her thigh. Gnashing, he notices that the blood has already been sucked into the fabric of her pants. Automatically he goes faster and would like to wear them to completely relieve them. If they tripped and moved the object in their flesh, he could never forgive himself. 

After a few seconds, to his relief, they finally arrived at the small, inconspicuous hotel and he is overwhelmed by a wave of hope that seems to beat foam tops. "We're here," he announces, opening the door so the young woman won't try.

She seems to be infected by his broad grin, so that even the redhead brings about a barely noticeable smile. Apparently, she has not yet fully befriended the idea of turning her back on her old life or fearing the consequences that the KGB might draw from her treachery. 

At the hotel he puts one arm around her waist and draws her a little faster to draw as little attention as possible to her, but she simply stops: "Not so quickly, otherwise we will only attract more attention. The secret of the Rennes is that you don't run, you run relaxed. " At their hint, it runs slower and those who have stared at them actually turn their gaze away from them. So they really only seem like a normal couple, instead of two people who tried to kill each other less than half an hour ago.

When he reaches the elevator, he presses the elevator button, but he can't stop turning his head so that he can see the people behind him out of the corner of his eye.  
A man sitting in a cheap chair holding a newspaper in his hands looks at them continuously and impenetrably across the edge of the paper. But only the right, glassy eye of the man in a tuxedo really chases a shiver over his back. "What's the matter?" asks the woman in his arms. "Oh nothing", he quickly turns his head forward again and pulls her into the elevator with him.

The doors close much too slowly for his taste. When she finally leaves with a'clong', he wants to take his arm off her and instead take her to the bar she can also hold on to, but she puts her hand on his and carefully crosses her fingers into his: "Please continue to hold me, uh. . . ". He immediately notices that she probably doesn't even know his name: "Clint, my name is Clint Barton! Nice to meet you, Natalia. " "Pleased to meet you," she replies with a smile that is now much more genuine and gentle than what she has just shown the people in the lobby: "But please don't call me Natalia. You said I could start over, so I never want to hear that name again. " "Okay, so what's your name?" he asks interestedly. "I don't know," she briefly closes her eyes and bites her lip. When he discovers her pink lower lip between her teeth, he feels a sudden tingling sensation in his stomach. However, he simply tries to ignore the fact that something is moving in his pants. "After a few seconds she opens her eyes again and looks at him with a facial expression that strongly reminds him of a child: "From now on, call me Natasha Romanoff, okay. " "Natasha Romanoff", he lets his name melt in his mouth: "I like that. " "I have one last request, uh. . . Clint," his name from her mouth sounds completely unfamiliar to him. "Yes?" She's taking a deep breath: "Can everything that will happen in Budapest really stay in Budapest?" He immediately nods: "Agreed not to say a word to anyone. " "Thank you, Clint," his sudden twitch when Natasha leans her head against his shoulder, surprises him completely. Why does he react so sensitively to her touch? It becomes more and more difficult for him to hold back the wave of sensations that tries to overpower him more and more the longer it touches him. Fortunately, the doors open with a 'ping', so that he can pull them along with him without thinking about it.

He is so inconsiderate that she almost stumbles over her own feet. He slows down immediately: "I'm sorry, Nat. " By the nickname she raises her head and gives him this one smile that you only see once or twice in life. A smile that reaches to her green eyes and makes her shine.


	3. Blood and arrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint persuades Natasha to let him help her with the wound.

As soon as he unlocks the room door, he shivers. The walls of the hotel were not particularly thick and he had unfortunately forgotten to turn on the heating, which works well in relation to the other things in the house. "I'm sorry the room is so bad, but I didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself," he helps her enter the room. 

"No problem," she replies: "I often have no other choice. Apparently I don't have the'draw attention to myself' but not as well as you do. After all, I got your attention. " "Well, I waited on the roof for hours for you to show up. " She can't hide a grin from his words.

"We should go to the bathroom and take care of your wound. I don't want it to become infected," he cautiously says. "No, that's really not necessary. I'm fine," Natasha replies. He raises an eyebrow and points with his hand to the seat: "Well, then sit down. " He immediately notices by her facial expression that she herself doubts whether she is capable of: "O-Okay, no problem. " 

She clings firmly to the backrest of the sofa and tries to sink gently on it, but before her buttocks can dig into the fabric, she shrugs together as a wave of pain over her whole body.

He quickly pushes his hands under her body and raises them as he sees the red spot on her thigh enlarge. Now Clint regrets having asked her and worries even more as the feeling that this is all his fault grows. Inside, he curses himself for the carelessness he shows. 

He gently carries her into the small bathroom and, despite her strong protest, carefully lets her sink into the bathtub. "I'll take care of this one now," he points to her leg, "No arguing. " She crosses her arms in front of her chest, but the brunette simply ignores this fact.

The bathroom is more than sparsely furnished, but to his delight there is at least a suitcase full of bandages. He grabs the handle and pulls the little red suitcase with the white cross from the shelf under the sink. "Can you please take your pants off? Then it will be easier for me to feel your wound. . . ", he begins and tries not to turn around. He does not want to see her reaction, because she would certainly meet his request with hatred and anger, although he has no evil intent. Clint's just trying to help him! 

That's why her answer surprises him: "All right, but please be careful with the disinfectant. "I'm really not much of a fan. " Surprised, he turns around to her and stares at her bright legs. He can't believe she's doing what he asked without saying a word.

The gaping wound on her thigh, however, makes him concentrate again. First, it pulls out said disinfectant and a soft cloth. He can fully understand their aversion to it, but it has to be straight, because after a short glance he can say that the probability of an infection is not exactly low. 

To take away her fear, however, he explains each step individually: "First I take a little disinfectant to clean up the injury, then I pull out the last rest of my arrow and sew the wound. When I'm done, I'll take the formula again and wipe off the blood. Is that okay?" That'a little' he emphasizes particularly strongly. She rolls her eyes: "Yes, it's okay. You don't have to explain everything to me. After all, I'm not a little kid. " "Oh, I'm sorry. I really didn't want to insult you or anything," he stammers, but she just waves: "It was just a joke, Barton. I thought that's what you do. " Clint manages to force his way through to a grin. Apparently she's never done anything like this before: "Yeah, right, that's how you do it, but it's a serious situation, so we're serious, okay?" "Yeah, we're both super serious," she answers and moves her legs carefully in his direction. "Thank you," he smiles and is really happy that she is not resisting him: "But you know that my treatment does not replace a visit to the doctor, right? If we're in the helicopter, you'd better go to one of the doctors right away. They really got it in you in under an hour to patch you up, no matter how bad. " "Wow, that's definitely an improvement. The KGB gave you a painkiller and a punch in the back of the head if you were lucky," she describes and tries to grin, but he can imagine that she isn't joking.

After he completes his treatment, her wound is covered with a white bandage, while the black piece of wood, which she has wounded so badly, lies somewhere between the toilet and the trash can. "Please get up and go to bed," he hands her a hand: "I'll clean everything up here, otherwise the people of this facility will think I killed someone. " "With his help, she gets out of the tub and a few seconds later stands in front of him with her arms crossed and her legs shaky. 

He puts both hands around hers: "I really don't want to discuss this right now, Nat. We both know you need to rest. If you're not doing it for yourself, at least do it for me. "

Without thinking long about it, he presses a gentle kiss on her forehead. When he notices her surprised look, he freezes: "I'm sorry. " 

The young woman does not answer, however, but simply lets her hands wander under his shirt to his back. Your fingers out of his skin almost drive him crazy. As she gently presses her lips on his neck, it feels as if she were starting a fire in him that he himself had suffocated for a long time.

Instinctively he shoves his hand under her butt and presses it against the icy, tiled wall. A suffocated gasp escapes her throat as she feels the wall in her back. She wraps her legs around his hips so that he can lift them up and carry them to the bed. Of course, he takes care that her wound does not suffer while he devotes himself to his passion.


	4. Like a real sex Goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Natasha devote themselves to each other's feelings.

His fingers glide over her almost naked back and leave a trail of fire on it. The pulling in her abdomen and the passion the blonde agent has awakened in her are getting stronger and stronger. The light of the street lamps of Budapest falls through the windows of the hotel room onto the rumpled bed. The young red-haired woman sits on the blond agent's lap, dressed in her underwear and covered his neck with kisses. "Wow, I hadn't thought of that when I offered you another chance," he grins moaning. "What did you have in mind?" she asks with a grin and looks deep into his blue eyes. "I thought you might tell me something about me," his hands glide towards her hips and suddenly his pants seem much too tight: "But I like this one even better. " "Me too," she agrees and opens the buttons of his white shirt with practiced handles. He's not surprised she can. After all, it now has a certain reputation in the world. 

As soon as she has opened his shirt completely, he sits up briefly to make it easier for her to remove the garment from his body. Fortunately, she understands the silent invitation and throws his top into some corner as soon as she takes it off.

Clint goes all this way too long, which is why he opens his leather belt and pulls it out of the jeans' loops. He wants it now! 

She seems to notice his rush and climbs off his lap so he can take off his pants and she takes off her underwear, but he stops her as she just opens the bra. "In one go he pulls down jeans and boxer shorts and now stands completely naked in front of her, for which he immediately gets an appreciative look from the woman. Actually, she is his mission and this behavior is more than unprofessional, but with her he just can't hold back.

He gently pushes the opposing agent back onto the bed and leans over her. With two fingers he unlatches her black bra and pushes the straps of her shoulders before dropping it on the floor. 

With his thumb he drives over the velvety soft skin of her large, round breasts and caresses her nipples with her lips slightly chapped open by the cold. Natasha drops her head into the neck and presses her mouth together to suppress a groan. With one finger he drives over the corner of her mouth and kisses her passionately on the mouth. He closes his eyes and falls completely into them. It just feels so light-hearted like nothing else in his life.

Before he can think long about it, he gently pushes into it and immediately overwhelms him with a wave of lust. "I want you," he gasps overwhelmed as he pushes into her again and again with his hard limb. 

He looks at the young, agitated woman among himself. Her long, red curls stick to her skin and from her mouth, which she has opened a little wide, a lustful moaning sounds again and again that only drives him further to the edge of orgasm.

As he pours himself into her in a liberating orgasm, he notices how she too comes under him. Carefully he pulls himself out of it and drops back into the sheets next to it. From the corner of her eye he looks at how her legs are still shaking. "That was. . . wow", Natasha assesses and from her mouth this means a lot to him. He can only agree nodding silently. On this winter night, she has evoked more in him than any other person before. Like a real sex goddess!

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment!


End file.
